


Doujima's Mirages

by VampirePaladin



Category: Witch Hunter Robin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/pseuds/VampirePaladin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doujima tries to get information on the Orbo and is discovered by a certain secretary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doujima's Mirages

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mycha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycha/gifts).



> This was inspired by a combination of your request and the episode "Smells Like the Wandering Spirit". I found it interesting that in the same episode she says that her parents begged Zaizen for her job, but at the end she says she doesn't remember what their faces look like.

Doujima did not bother to wake up until nine in the morning. She was supposed to be at work by now. The others were probably going through their morning briefing at this moment. Doujima was doing her hair. Even working among hunters she should always look her very best. Once every strand of hair was in the absolutely best place it could possibly be she could consider leaving the apartment. It was a very nice, very expensive apartment. She picked out a pair of shoes that were the latest fashion and would perfectly compliment her clothing. Now, she was ready to go. She got into her car and drove off, stopping on the way to Raven’s Flat for coffee.

By the time she stepped out of the elevator and headed into their shared office the others were already putting their coats on.

“Have fun hunting the witches,” she said with a smile to the others as they walked by.

“Good morning,” Robin said.

“Watch out for Kosaka. He’s pretty mad at you,” Sakaki said.

Karasuma gave her a friendly nod. Amon barely acknowledged her presence.

Michael was at his usual station at his computer, a bag of chips at his side.

Doujima set her purse down at her desk and then dropped into her chair. She gave a great, big yawn and covered her mouth with her hand.

“I was up so late last night. Why do we have to be here so early in the morning?” She spoke out loud but it was not directed to anyone in particular. It would be more accurate to say it was complaining addressed to whoever heard it.

She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out the latest issue of her favorite fashion magazine. There were so many stripes in the ensembles. Doujima did not approve of this change of styles. Some stripes could be nice, but the amount in these outfits was just too overpowering. She should have been a fashion designer.

 

Doujima ran around her parents’ garden. She could smell all the flowers and intermixed with all the other scents was the scent of the olive trees. They were everywhere. Her mother loved them. While the other plants changed from spot to spot the olive trees were everywhere. Their perfume was always present, reminding her of her parents wherever she went.

Her little feet were bare against the cobblestone paths. Her soles were hard from doing this so often. She barely noticed the little imperfections that would cause most people to tiptoe and wince if they were barefoot.

She chased other children. One of them had pink hair that went down to the ground. Another child was secretly half dinosaur. Her favorite was the one that looked like Cinderella. She and her friends ran together and played together.

Her father was calling her so she ran back to the expensive summer home.

Both her parents were waiting for her. There were men in dark suits with them. Her father held her mother close as she cried onto him.

Doujima’s friends disappeared.

 

Doujima slid into the chair behind Zaizen’s desk. The smell of cigar smoke hung in the air like overly sweet cake at a funeral. She grabbed the mouse and shook it a little to get rid of the screensaver. The computer asked for a password. Doujima stopped to think. She had read Zaizen’s file, but there was next to nothing about any kind of a personal life. Well, it could not hurt to guess. She typed in the name of his daughter.

Bingo.

She was in.

“Miss Doujima what are you doing in here? You can’t be in here. What are you doing?” 

Doujima spun around in her chair. She leaned back, the picture of a languid, carefree attitude. She rested her chin in one manicured hand.

“Oh, Hattori, It is just you. You don’t need to sound like a panicked gerbil.”

“You know the boss doesn’t like people in his office when he isn’t here!”

“But his computer can get to foreign shopping websites.”

“Foreign… shopping?”

“Michael explained it to me. Some sites won’t work from a Japanese computer because they only sell to customers from certain companies. This computer has some type of boring techno babble program that lets it get around stuff like that. I can order the latest fashions directly from France. See?”

Doujima moved aside to let Hattori look at the computer screen. The outfit with a lot of ugly stripes was displayed on the screen. It looked like any other website with random foreign words littered around the screen. If someone was familiar with French they would know that the words were nonsense.

Hattori did not know any French. 

He sighed. “Please, please, don’t do that again. I’m sure Michael can help you order from overseas if you really want to. Just don’t use this computer.”

“Aw, you are no fun at all,” Doujima pouted. She got out of the chair and walked across the floor and out of the office.

When Hattori followed her out the image of a French website vanished from the computer screen, revealing Zaizan’s latest e-mail to the Factory. Once the screensaver started it would be locked out again. He would never know she was there.

Information about the Orbo had eluded her, but she had at least gotten one of his passwords out of the bargain. It would be only a matter of time before she could go back in there again and finish her sleuthing. Until then she would just have to console herself with shopping. Maybe she should get Michael to help her order from a foreign company or two. There were a few that she had her eye on.

 

Her parents were rich. They had connections. So when their little girl woke up to her powers they had arranged for her to be trained and put to work for Solomon instead of being neutralized.

She had not seen her parents since that day, many years ago. Doujima had trouble remembering their faces now, but she never forgot the scent of the olive trees.


End file.
